


Even Sentinels Have To Fight Drabble Monsters

by Dolimir



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-22
Updated: 2011-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-20 15:43:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 7,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just drabbles and ficlets I've written over the years that don't really fit anywhere else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So This Is Love?

Judging by the way the men and women who had flitted through Naomi’s life bandied around the word, Blair had grown up thinking that ‘love’ was a code word for ‘let’s have sex.’ In his late teens he realized that perhaps he was being overly cynical by applying that thought to the general populace, although it did still seem to apply to Naomi’s life.

Blair never truly expected to fall in love. It wasn’t that he was opposed to the emotion, he just knew himself well enough to know he didn’t have the sort of selflessness as described in romance novels and Hallmark cards. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a great affection for a number of people in his life, but he knew it wasn’t the stuff of legends or fairy tales either.

So it came as something of a shock when he realized he was in love. When the realization hit him, he tried to convince himself it was lust, an emotion he knew quite a bit about, but upon examination he recognized that it was a completely different feeling. While he believed that the new feeling might eventually become passion, it didn’t negate the warm glow of love he was currently feeling.

Blair leaned back against the couch cushion and blew out a breath of pent-up air.

Love.

Who would have thunk it?

Obviously not Sam.

A cackle escaped him when he realized that she now owed him a c-note. But his humor disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

So this was love?

He barked out with laughter as an image of Lady and the Tramp eating spaghetti popped into his head.

Jim looked up from his cutting board in the kitchen and cocked an eyebrow at him. Blair just grinned and waved a hand at him. Jim shrugged his shoulders and continued the task of making dinner.

Rubbing both hands over his face, Blair stared up at the vaulted ceiling and wondered if what he was feeling could simply be some deeper shade of affection as of yet unexplored. But the more he probed the new emotion, the more he was convinced it was indeed love.

Lowering his chin, until Jim came back into his view, Blair studied his partner. While he had no doubt that Jim had great affection for him, he wasn’t sure it would qualify as love. Jim would much rather deal with the physical than with spiritual or emotional issues. Probably because he had been burned more in the romance department than Blair had been, if such a thing were possible.

“The squirrel is really burning rubber, huh?”

Blair blinked in confusion when he realized that his partner was speaking to him. He laughed incredulously. “What?”

“You’re thinking awfully hard about something.”

Nodding in understanding, Blair grinned. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

Jim put a casserole dish in the oven, then turned and faced him again. “Anything I can help you with?”

Blair huffed in quiet amusement.

“What?” Jim’s tone indicated that he didn’t understand the joke and was trying to make sure he wasn’t the butt of it, but he was also giving Blair a chance to explain himself before he lost his temper.

Deciding to head off any hurt feelings, Blair leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Have you ever been in love before? I mean, truly and deeply in love?”

“Yeah, I think so. At least once or twice.”

“And how did you know?”

“What? Know that I was in love?”

“Yes.” Blair flopped back against the cushion and waved his hands around the loft. “Was the air cleaner? Did the birds sing louder?”

Jim leaned against the counter and appeared to be pondering the question. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Did you ever…”

“Ever?” Jim prompted.

“Wake up one day and realize you were in love?”

Jim remained silent.

Blair dug his fingers into his palms to prevent himself from fidgeting. “I mean, unexpected. Were you just walking down the path of life, fat, dumb and happy, then realized as you stopped that you were in love?”

Jim dropped his chin to his chest and whispered something under his breath.

“Pardon me?”

Instead of answering, Jim pushed himself off the kitchen island and closed the distance between them.

“Jim?”

Placing his hands on the back of the couch, one on each side of Blair’s head, Jim rested his forehead against Blair’s.

“I said,” he whispered, “It’s about fricken time.”

Blair’s breath left him as the implication of Jim’s words hit him. “Been waiting long?” he finally whispered.

Jim nodded. “For a doctorial candidate, you’re not very bright.”

“Well, I like to study all the empirical evidence.”

“Uh-huh.” Jim straddled Blair’s lap.

“You know, test the hypothesis.” Blair rested his hands on Jim’s hips.

“Uh-huh.”

“Write out the conclusion.”

“Uh-huh.” Blair’s lips vibrated with the sound of Jim’s assent.

“So this is love?” Blair whispered.

“Yes, Chief. This is love.”


	2. Flushing

It never ceases to amaze me how Jim can flip on the siren in his truck and never flinch, but can gripe for five minutes about my flushing the toilet after ten. I suppose I could attribute the phenomena to his mentally preparing for one sound, while the other often comes from left field. I know he unconsciously raises his hearing levels at night as a security measure, but the hyper vigilance routine is starting to wear a bit thin. We’re going to have to find a compromise and soon. I wonder how much it’d cost to soundproof the bathroom?


	3. Snafu

Jim snatched the ringing phone off his desk. “Detective Ellison here.”

“Ummm. Jim.”

“Sandburg?”

“Yeah.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, you could say that, but at least I’m not in any physical danger. Yet. ”

“What do you mean by ‘yet’?”

“How much do you love me?”

“What?” Jim barked, surprised by the non sequitur.

“Shit, I’m not handling…that is to say--”

“Just spit it out, Sandburg.”

He heard Blair take a deep breath and release it. “Um. You know that email you sent me this morning?”

Jim blushed slightly, vividly remembering the erotic email. “Yes.”

“Well, I may have accidentally forwarded it to Simon.”

“What?” Jim shouted. As all eyes turned his direction, Jim bowed his head and covered his eyes with his hand.

“All I need for you to do is to keep Simon out of his office until I get there. I tried to delete the email from here, but I’m getting some sort of interference with the department’s intranet. I’ll have to do it from his terminal.”

“He’s supposed to be back from the mayor’s office any minute.” Jim didn’t like the crack in his voice.

“Then stall him.”

Before he could respond, Blair had hung up.

Bouncing his forehead off the desk, Jim thought that it was a damn good thing he really did love the kid. Otherwise, he’d be forced to bury the body.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Slouched against the back of the couch, Jim tried to remember the last time he had experienced such stress (or fun, but he would admit only to himself). Simon, no doubt, believed that Jim had completely lost his mind.

“Chief.”

“I swear, Jim. It will never happen again. I was uploading several documents to Simon and then Andrea came in and started to talking to me and one thing lead to another and--”

“Breathe, Sandburg.” Jim grinned at his lover. When Blair returned it, he started to chuckle, then out and out laughed.

After several minutes, Blair finally got his hilarity under control and looked at Jim seriously. “Jim--”

Jim raised Blair’s hand to his lips and gently kissed a knuckle. “No regrets, lover. Absolutely none.”


	4. Home Again

Jim slid his key into the lock and opened the door as quietly as possible. The dining room table was stacked with papers and books that appeared to be in danger of slipping onto the floor. Setting his suitcase down, Jim cast his hearing toward the bedroom and frowned when he found it devoid of any sound. He noticed a half eaten piece of toast balanced on the rim of Blair’s favorite mug and heard a sleepy snuffle from the couch.

Jim shook his head affectionately. It was a good thing he was home. Blair was obviously overdoing it again.


	5. Really, Truly

"What do you mean you took a pass?" Blair watched Jim as he made his way to the refrigerator.

"Just what I said." Jim pulled a bottle out of the refrigerator and tossed it to Blair, before pulling another one out for himself.

"I can't believe that Simon didn't have something to say about that."

The tops of Jim's ears turned slightly pink, a sure indicator that something was not quite kosher. "He did."

"And?"

"The banquet is in less than an hour."

"Yeah?"

"It doesn't give me enough time to rent a tux."

"But you own a tux, Jim."

"True, but the storage bag has mothballs and there's not enough time to air out the suit."

"Why would...Wait a minute. You've never shown any reaction to mothballs. Are you saying you've developed an allergic reaction to mothballs?"

"No." Jim grinned wickedly. "To banquets."


	6. Lassitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Serendipity

"Serene pity."

"What?" Jim turned onto his side and looked at his sated partner sprawled naked beside him.

"I was five. What do you want from me?" Blair's index finger trailed lightly over Jim's chest, and Jim was torn between turning his touch dial down and cranking it as high as it would go. "Besides Naomi was impressed at my attempt to use such a big word."

"Chief, you know what I said about mentioning your mom in bed."

Blair brushed his lips over Jim's. "Perhaps it's serendipitous that I have something to distract me from this train of thought.


	7. What To Do In Cascade When It Rains

A heavy sigh by the balcony window drew Jim's attention away from the television. "What's wrong, Chief?"

"It's raining." Blair didn't turn to look at Jim, but continued to look mournfully outside. "Again."

"It's Cascade."

"I know." Unhappiness permeated Blair's entire posture as he shuffled toward the kitchen table. Looking at the stacks of essays waiting to be graded, he sighed even deeper.

Jim flicked off the television. "So Blair wants to play, but it's raining. Is that it?"

Blue eyes perked with interest. "Something like that."

Nodding toward the stairs, Jim grinned suggestively. Personally, he always liked the rain.


	8. What?

"How can you live in this mess?" Jim frowned as he surveyed his partner's bedroom.

"What mess?"

"Are you kidding me? How can you find anything in here?"

Blair looked around the room in confusion. "I know exactly where everything is. I have a system."

"What's wrong with the system of just keeping everything in its place?"

"What are you, my mother?" Blair put his hands on his hips in aggravation. "I take that back. Naomi was never this naggy."

"That's it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean there's only one thing to do. I'm calling Extreme Makeover."


	9. Stakeout

"It's been so long since I've felt warm."

"Oh, give me a break." Jim unscrewed the top of his thermos.

"I can't feel my toes anymore."

"I told you this wasn't an official stakeout. I just wanted to get an idea of the foot traffic around Gower's place." Jim handed his partner a cup of coffee. "You could've stayed home."

"As if." Blair accepted the offering and made a big production out of appreciating the aroma. "Ah, ambrosia.

"Admit it. You came to mooch some of my secret stash."

"Maybe." Blair grinned unrepentantly. "Or maybe I came for the company."


	10. The Problem With Jim Ellison

The problem with Jim Ellison is that even though he has ears that allow him to listen to a bird singing over a mile away, he cannot hear the simplest truth when whispered from right beside him. This inability probably goes back to his ranger days when he learned that the only person he could truly depend on was himself. It’s a lesson that has served him well over the years.

But times change.

Not all of us are lucky enough to be blessed with grad students to guide us through life…and if we were, we wouldn’t waste the opportunity.


	11. Neighborhood Watch

Tugboats called out forlornly in the foggy bay like lost kittens crying for their mothers. The Abernathy’s on Fourth were arguing again about money – like always, while Mary Wheldon on Foster was reading her children one of the Narnia tales. Mrs. Chen on the second floor was making her famous pad tai and Jim licked his lips once in appreciation. One of these days he was going to accept her offer to dinner, even though he knew she was hoping to set him up with her niece.

Blair was humming quietly to himself as he opened the oven door and checked the Chicken Marcella. He was making happy noises and Jim knew it would only be a couple of minutes more before Blair called him inside.

Nightly rituals were being performed with various degrees of enthusiasm throughout the neighborhood. His own worries took a step back as the sun set slowly behind the horizon. He nodded once in satisfaction, then turned and stared into the loft, smiling fondly at his roommate as he heard a soft ‘hot hot hot’ from inside indicating that it was time to buy new potholders.

The tribe was safe and the sentinel was at peace.


	12. Nothing But The Truth

Suspect attempted to flee into a warehouse located at 11295 Mauer. Despite din, Detective was able to locate Suspect by cologne Suspect apparently bathed in earlier in the day. While frisking Suspect, Detective located an Glock automatic, a ten inch switchblade and a velvet pouch containing twelve two carat diamonds. Detective was later able to confirm that diamonds were the ones stolen from West’s Jewelry earlier in day. Suspect was mirandized, transported to stationed and booked.

Simon nodded happily as he read the report. “This is great, Sandburg. And it definitely beats Jim’s, chased bad guy, caught bad guy draft.”

“He’s not that bad, Simon.”

“True, but he’s darn close. By the way, was Jackson’s aftershave really that bad?”

“Who knows? But by the time trial rolls around, no one will think to question the strength of his cologne and that’s all that matters.”


	13. Marking Territory

"Why do you have a pair of women's underwear in your dresser drawer?"

“I have a pair of women’s underwear in my drawer? Cool!”

“What do you mean, cool?”

“Oh, come on, Jim. Everyone knows that women mark their territory around a potential mate by leaving behind personal effects as a way to warn off rivals. If a woman left her underwear that means she thought I was worth claiming. I wonder who it could’ve been?”

“It doesn’t matter who they belonged to, Chief.”

“I know, Jim. But you gotta admit, it’s a rather complimentary discovery.”

“I don’t have to admit any such thing.”

“Jim, are you jealous about a pair of old underwear?”

“It’s not some ratty cotton brief, Sandburg. It’s a thong.”

“Man, I can’t believe you’re … A thong? Really?”

“I think it’s time to remark my territory.”

“Works for me.”


	14. Booboo

“Son of a bitch!” Jim dropped his wrench and stepped away from the truck, putting pressure on his hand by squeezing it in his armpit.

“Let me take a look at it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Jim,” Blair said patiently. “Let me see it.”

Reluctantly, Jim offered his hand to his partner. Blair’s face showed no emotion as he examined his fingers.

“You’ll survive.”

“I could have told you that.” Jim tried to withdraw his hand, but Blair refused to let it go.

“You’ll survive,” Blair repeated in a quieter voice. “It’ll sting for a while, but it’ll get better.”

Jim closed his eyes, knowing Blair wasn’t talking about his injury. “I know.”

Blair lifted Jim’s hand to his lips and gently pressed a kiss to the bruised knuckle. “While I can’t make everything feel better, I am here for you.”

“I know, Chief. I know.”


	15. Goldilocks

Jim froze as he withdrew his keys from his pocket. “Something’s not right inside.”

Laying a hand on Jim’s back, Blair looked at the loft door with trepidation. “Can you pinpoint the feeling?”

“It…sounds wrong.”

“Do you hear anyone moving around inside?”

“No.”

“How about explosives? Do you smell anything that could go boom?”

Rolling his gaze in affectionate exasperation, Jim shook his head. “Stay behind me, Chief.”

Blair squeezed one eye shut as Jim unlocked the door.

“Someone has sat at the table since we left.”

Blair followed Jim into the loft and looked around for any other signs of intrusion. “Damn, someone ate my mango. I wanted that for lunch tomorrow.”

Jim gazed toward their bedroom. Without a word, he jogged up the stairs.

“Someone’s rearranged the bedroom.”

Blair relaxed his stance and grinned. “Sounds like Naomi stopped by for a visit.”


	16. Poke Me, I'm Done

"Jim, man, just drop the BBQ fork and no one gets hurt."

“Stay where you are, Sandburg.”

“Be reasonable, man. There’s nothing wrong with rare meat.”

“As a scientist, I can’t believe you can say that with a straight face. Do you have any idea how many different kinds of bacteria reside in uncooked meat?”

“We’re not talking about chicken, Jim. We’re discussing beef. You have heard about beef tartar, haven’t you?”

“Why don’t you just go to a field and slaughter a cow then? What’s the point of starting up the grill if you aren’t going to use it?”

“You know, you’re taking this ‘protect the guide’ thing a little too far. Rare is not raw.”

“Says the man with a wolf as an animal spirit.”

“You know, it’s not like jaguars can grill.”

“They can today, buddy. They can today.”

“Oh, man.”


	17. Transcendent Understanding

Just what did it mean to have a shaman pass ‘the way’ to you as he lay dying? As an anthropologist, Blair knew exactly what it meant.

Shaman were teachers.

Okay, so he was also a teacher, but that was different. Wasn’t it? All he did was take the knowledge he had and share it with others in general and Jim in particular.

Blair blinked in amazement. Maybe ‘the way’ wasn’t a transfer of power, but simply the gift of understanding that he was what he had always strived to be and that his place at Jim’s side was secure.


	18. First Date

“I had a blast tonight.”

“Me too, Chief.”

“See you in the morning?”

“Bright and early.”

“Well, not too early.”

Jim chuckled, but as he turned he noticed his spirit guide sitting at the bottom of the stairs leading to his bedroom. The cat’s ears were flattened and its tail was swishing angrily back and forth.

Turning toward his companion, he noticed that Blair was standing in the same place he had left him.

Blair’s hands were on his hips and he was glaring at the bottom of the French doors. “I don’t put out on a first date.”

“Since when?”

Before Blair could protest, Jim waved him silent. “We *have* lived together for four years.”

“So?”

“So, maybe our first official date should end with a kiss?”

Both men looked back at their spirit guides, then at each other.

“Okay, but just one.”


	19. Control

“Let it go, Sandburg.”

“Not a chance, Jim. You haven’t zoned in over a year.” Blair picked up the shaving cream can and inspected the label. “We need to get a handle on this right away so it doesn’t happen again.” Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he inspected the blade of Jim’s razor.

“What if I want it to happen again?”

Blair looked up and blinked as he tried to process what Jim had just said. “What’s that?”

Jim held his gaze. “I said, what if I want it to happen again.”

Blair’s eyes widened as the pieces suddenly fell into place. “The cream’s menthol, isn’t it?”

Jim nodded.

“And some of it dropped onto your chest, didn’t it?”

Jim swallowed hard, but nodded again.

“All right, Jim. But next time, we experiment under the strictest controls.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely, man, the absolute strictest.”


	20. Not Enough Sleep

Blair had only managed six hours of sleep during the last seventy-two hours. He had proctored and graded four exams, taken three himself, and put the finishing touches on a final paper. Every cell in his body was screaming for its need to nap, and yet he was in the middle of another gunfight.

“Sandburg, we need Jim. Now.” Simon Banks poked his head around a crate and fired several volleys, trying to keep the gunrunners from advancing on their position.

And for the life of him, Blair didn’t have a clue how to bring Jim out of his zone.


	21. Taste Tests

Jim Ellison set his fork beside his plate and watched his roommate eat dinner. “Chief, you know I’ve been up to my neck in the Wilbanks case, don’t you?”

“Well, duh. Who do you think has been typing your reports?”

Jim rubbed his forehead with his right hand. “When’s your next chapter due?”

“Friday. Why?”

“Taste tests?”

Blair hesitated. “Yes.”

“So if I say you put cinnamon in the green beans, homegrown oregano in the potatoes, one mustard seed in the roast, a drop of lemon in the wine and ground nutmeg in the salad, we’ll be square?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good.”


	22. Do You Really Want To Know?

“Of course, the upside to your zoning is that you’re remarkably pliable. You wouldn’t believe how much past pictures have gone for with the gals in the steno pool. I keep telling you, Jim, you really should be nicer to those ladies. Of course, the funds have also kept gas in my car so I’m not complaining.”

“Sandburg.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded weak. “What’s going on?”

“You totally zoned, man. I mean, one second you were here and the next you were gone. Do you have any idea what caught your attention.”

“Not a clue.”

“Good.”


	23. Crayon

"Take the crayons out of your pants, Chief."

“Crayons? What am I? Four?”

“You tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Why you have crayons in your pocket?”

What makes you think I have crayons in my pocket? Maybe I’m just happy to see you.”

“Don’t make me frisk you, Sandburg.”

“Is that a threat or a promise, Jim?”

“Happy to see me?”

“A little slow today, are we?”

“Are you happy to see me, Chief?”

“Always, Jim. You know that.”

“I--”

“You’re so cute when you blush.”

“What?”

“I meant, manly. That’s it. Not cute. Manly.”

“Too late, Chief.”

“Rats.”


	24. Word Association

“I want you to say the first thing that pops into your head when I give you a word. Don’t take time to think about the appropriateness of your response.”

Jim shifted his truck seat back as far as it would go. “Is this really necessary, Chief?”

“Come on, Jim. Not only will this help me out, but it’ll make the stakeout go faster. I promise.” Blair gave him his best combination puppy dog expression and winning smile look.

Jim rolled his gaze and sighed.

“It’ll be painless, I promise.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Jim muttered.

“Is that a yes?”

“Just give me your damn words.”

Not questioning his luck, Blair pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket.

“All right. Black.”

“Night.”

“White.”

“Pure.”

“Cat.”

“Jaguar.”

“Dog.”

“Wolf.”

“Green.”

“Seaweed Shakes.”

“Red.”

“Blood.”

“Love.”

“Blair.”

“What?”

“Nothing, I just thought I saw something.”


	25. A Good Day

Two months.

Two months had passed since he’d moved in with Jim under circumstances so bizarre that his mother would have probably hit a meditation record trying to process the situation.

But two months later, he was still Jim’s roommate. It had to be the longest damn week on record.

The tide washed over his shoes and soaked the bottom of his jeans. He started out of his reverie and took a moment to take in his surroundings. The sun was sitting on the horizon; yellows and oranges, reds and purples painted the sky with broad strokes. A lonely bell chimed across the harbor’s water, and sandpipers ran back and forth in front of the waves.

Two months.

What did it mean?

A car horn blared behind him and he turned toward the street to find his partner leaning out the window of his vehicle. “We just got a call, Chief. If you’re done communing with nature, I could really use your help on this one.”

Blair grinned widely as he jogged toward the SUV.

What it meant was that he was needed and happy. Beyond that, only time would tell.


	26. Midnight Cowboys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay Brady belongs to Kikkimax, but sometimes she lets me play with him.
> 
> I think this might technically be part of the Squirrel universe. Hmmm.

“So what are we watching?” Jay Brady absently stuck his hand in the popcorn bowl and tossed a buttered kernel in the air and caught it with his mouth.

Blair shrugged. “I don’t know. Something about cowboys, I think.”

“You think?”

“What do you want from my life, man?” Blair nudged his friend’s leg with his knee and handed him a bottle of beer. “Come on, move your big feet, you lug.”

Jay snickered and dropped both feet to the ground with a thunk, even as he accepted the beer. “Get the light before you sit down.”

Blair reached over and switched off the lamp, then flopped beside his friend. “So how are things going with Megan?”

“They’re not.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

Jay shrugged. “Nothing to be sorry for. Life happens.”

Blair gently pushed his elbow in his friend’s ribs. “That’s remarkably deep for a cowboy.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve been a bad influence on me.”

They grinned at each other, then turned toward the television as the movie began.

“Midnight Cowboy?” Jay asked incredulously.

Blair frowned slightly. “Yeah, why?”

“Partner, this isn’t about cowboys.”

“It’s not?”

“Are you telling me you’ve never seen this movie before?”

Blair laughed softly in confusion. “I’ve never been that big into westerns.”

Jay bellowed with laughter.

“What’s wrong with this film?”

“Well, for one thing, it’s set in New York City.”

“New York City?”

“Now say it with a twang,” Jay snickered.

Blair glanced back at the television set. “Are you saying--”

The phone rang. Jay looked at it suspiciously, then looked at Blair.

“It’s Megan,” Blair said quietly.

Jay sighed heavily and started to reach for the receiver, but Blair leaned over his lap and stayed his hand. “These aren't the droids you’re looking for,” he whispered softly over the phone.

Which never rang a third time.

“Have I ever told you how freaky that is?” Jay asked as Blair straightened. “And just what was up with the droid line?”

Blair grinned at him. “Tell me you’ve never wanted to use that line as a kid.”

“Oh, shut up and watch the movie.”

“Well, if it isn’t about cowboys, then what’s it about?”

Jay smiled at him. “It’s basically about the lengths friends will go to for each other.”

“Like us?”

“Exactly like us, partner. Exactly like us.”


	27. Sticking To It

"How are you progressing on the Carson murder, Joel?" Simon asked from the head of the conference table.

Joel sighed tiredly. "Not very well, I'm afraid. I can't get the family to talk to me, although given their history with the police, I'm not really surprised. I just don't know what else to do to reach them, to let them know we're really trying to help."

"Sandburg," Simon said, almost absently.

"Yes, sir."

"I'd like you to ride with Joel tomorrow. See if you can invoke that people voodoo thing you do. "

Blair shot his partner a nervous look. "Okay," he agreed quietly.

"Don't worry about, Ellison. He and Brown will be doing a low-key surveillance at Cascade Community College."

"What?" Henri asked, startled.

Simon leaned back in his seat. "Vice has gotten reports that there are two young women who are, shall we say, broadening their entrepreneurial pursuits by soliciting their business at one-day seminars put on by the various local colleges."

Henri laughed. "It sure beats the streets."

"True. There's some evidence they may have been running this ring for a couple of years now. The problem is these classes are so diversified and are taught by a lot of different people so it's been almost impossible to get a bead on them. It's re-election year and, of course, D.A. Stevenson is wanting to make an example of these two."

"And we're involved, why?" Henri asked.

"Because Vice is thin. They're trying to get detectives into every class these women are attending and they're short tomorrow. You two will go in with wires. You don't need to make any arrests, just get the solicitations on record."

Henri backhanded Jim's arm. "Now, that's my kind of assignment."

"Connor. Rafe." Simon rolled his gaze skyward, then diverted his attention to the two remaining detectives. "How are you two doing with the Jerde Jewelry heist?"

"It looks like an inside job, sir. We're expecting to make an arrest this afternoon," Megan reported.

"Excellent." Simon clapped his hands once in satisfaction. "All right, it sounds like we all have a plan. Brown, you and Ellison report to Robinson tomorrow to get your wires. The rest of you know what you need to do. Now get the hell out of here and let me get some work done."

As one, the detectives pushed away from the table and shoved each other good-naturedly into the bullpen.

Simon was gathering his papers when he became aware of his newest detective lagging behind. "Something I can help you with, Sandburg?"

The rookie handed him a piece of paper.

The seminar wouldn't happen to be a business writing seminar, would it?

Simon pasted on his most innocent look. "You know, I believe it is. Why?"

"No reason." Blair grinned brilliantly at him, then struggled to compose himself before he turned and headed for his desk.

Simon snorted softly in amusement, hoping that Ellison and Brown wouldn't put the pieces together until, at least, tomorrow. God knows once they did, they wouldn't be quite as amused as Sandburg was. But damn it, drastic actions called for drastic measures. Both men were excellent detectives, but sometimes they made his job a lot harder than it needed to be.

He also knew he was going to owe Robinson big time, but sometimes being captain meant not only making the hard decisions for your men, but sacrifices as well. And by God, that was his story and he was sticking to it.


	28. Betting the Pinks

"How sure are you?"

"What do you mean 'how sure am I'?" Jim asked, growling in irritation.

Blair raised his hands, placatingly. "Hey, you're the big bad sentinel with ten years experience on the force and I'm just a lowly rookie, but I gotta ask: are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?"

"I know the regs, Sandburg."

A sly smile tugged at Blair's lips. "So, you're confident enough to, say, bet your pinks?"

"My pinks?"

Blair composed his face into the perfect picture of innocence. "The title to your truck."

"Sweetheart?"

"Unless you have another truck I don't know about."

"You want to bet our vehicles?" Jim asked incredulously.

Blair shrugged. "What do you care? If you're right you have nothing to lose."

Jim frowned, looking unsure for a moment.

"So you're willing to admit you could be wrong?" Blair leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk gracing his face.

"I'm sure, damn it!"

Blair simply held out his hand and raised a challenging eyebrow. Jim frowned again, but grabbed the hand and gave it one hard shake.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Hey, Blair," Joel Taggert greeted as he walked through the police parking garage. "Did the Volvo break down again?"

Blair pushed the lock on the truck's door and slammed it shut. "Nope."

Maybe, just maybe, once Jim quit whining, he might give him an opportunity to win his baby back, but until then, he was just going to enjoy driving a classic that didn't need to be in the shop every month.


	29. Precious Gift (Alternative Ending to "The Waiting Room")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was VERY similar to another story I wrote, so I never posted it to the archive.

Jim shivered as the quiet energy passed through him.

"What is it? Do you see her?" Blair asked quietly from behind him.

Jim turned toward the mirror, but Molly didn’t appear. He spun quickly as he heard his partner's deep gasp turn into a lighter, almost breathy one, but what he saw was not a curly hair anthropologist but a tall willowy blonde.

"You came back," he whispered.

"Just to thank you. I don't have much time, but I wanted to give you a gift."

"That isn't necessary."

"I think it is."

Molly raised her hands and Jim automatically raised his own. They interlocked their fingers as Molly moved forward and gently brushed her lips over Jim's. Jim closed his eyes at the soft feel of her lips and moaned as her lips parted. He detected a slight shift as he gently invaded her mouth, surprised that she tasted of tea. The fingers in his hands seemed heavier somehow. Never breaking the kiss, he reluctantly opened his eyes - only to stare into a pair of semi-glazed dark blue eyes.

He saw the precise second realization came back to his partner.

Blair gulped, then jumped back. "Wow. That was very 'Ghost' like."

Jim could hear his partner's heartbeat racing in his chest, and knew Blair was worried about how he was going to react.

Jim just grinned. "Classy lady," he said quietly, then headed toward the door. "Let's go wrap up the paperwork, Chief."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The paperwork hadn't taken too long and Jim soon found himself driving them back to the loft. Blair had been unusually quiet during the whole booking process, having already expressed his views about arresting the elderly Mr. Bromly in the townhouse.

 _I want to give you a gift._

Jim frowned. The statement didn't seem to fit in with what he thought he knew about the ghost. He really did believe Molly was a classy woman, but her statement puzzled him.

He thought about it as he trudged up the stairs behind his partner, the elevator having been broken again.

Molly had said she hadn't much time, but that she wanted to give him a gift. Did she really think of the kiss she bestowed him as a gift. Jim watched Blair unconsciously touch his lips again, a gesture he had repeated several times in the past few hours. Jim's thoughts kept drifting back to the contour of Sandburg's mouth, the way his partner's hands clutched in his, the dazed look of love in Blair's eyes as...

The dazed look of love in Blair's eyes...

Blair opened the loft door and dropped his keys into the basket by the door. The observer moved toward the coat rack and began to removed his jacket.

The gift...

Molly had opened his eyes to the gift that had been there all the time.

Jim spun Blair around to face him, catching the jacket as it was midway down the student's back, binding Blair's arms behind him.

"Jim?"

Jim could hear Blair's heart pick up its pace. He gently pushed Blair back against the wall, his mouth covered the observer's before more questions could appear. Jim teased the lips beneath his, licking at the corners of Blair's mouth, silently entreating the younger man to open up to him. Blair breathed heavily through his nose, but moaned softly as he finally relented to Jim's erotic assault.

Jim's tongue delved in deeply, running freely over the smooth teeth, dueling playfully with the sweet tongue. Jim moved his grip so that one hand held Blair's jacket in place, while the other one moved up into Blair's hair. He slowly removed the hair tie, never stopping his oral exploration.

Blair shifted, trying to move his arms, but Jim pressed his hips forward to keep his guide in place. The electricity that ran through them as their hips met was electric. Blair opened his mouth wider even as his body arched off the wall. Jim plunged deeper into Blair as he thrust forward again. Blair mewled helplessly against the sensual onslaught.

Jim stopped suddenly and pulled back slightly.

Molly had given him a precious gift and he was not going to just tear the wrappings off of it. He was going to enjoy it slowly, was going to tantalize himself and the gift as long as humanly possible.

Doubt clouded Blair's eyes, but Jim smiled gently down at him as he loosened his grip on Blair's jacket, letting it slide to the floor. He then took one of Blair's hands and led him across the loft and up the stairs to his room.

"Thank you, Molly," he mouthed silently before he turned and gently pushed his partner onto the bed, following Blair down.

Yes, Molly had given him a precious gift and he was going to spend a lifetime enjoying it.


	30. Dear Abby

"Sandburg," Simon said, "if I wanted to know about your midnight escapades with the roller derby twins, I'd have 'Dear Abby' painted on my office door."

"Simon, I--"

"Not now, Sandburg. I have an appointment with the Commissioner in less than twenty-five minutes and I need some time to prepare. So, unless this is an emergency--"

"No. It can wait." The junior detective smiled almost apologetically and left the office.

Simon grabbed the morning paper and tossed it on the corner of his desk, but not before he read the headline "Daring Detective Detains Duo Derby Desperados."

"SANDBURG!"


	31. Told You So

"He'll come."

"No, he won't. He doesn't have any idea where you are."

"You know, you really should give yourself up while you still can."

"Oh, I'll be leaving, but not before I take care of a few loose ends."

"If you hurt me, he's going to be mad."

"Oh, stop. I'm shaking in my boots."

"Perps always complain that I don't give them enough fair warning. But I want it noted for the record that I did tell you in plenty of time."

"Whatever."

"FREEZE! DROP YOUR WEAPON AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!"

"I told you so."


	32. The Memo

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"Didn't you read the memo?" Blair asked.

"What memo? I didn't read any friggin memo!"

"That's not my problem. It's posted in plain sight by the elevator. So, clearly, you have no excuse."

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

"The memo clearly states that I can no longer be chosen as a hostage."

"What? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Well, then take it up with the Complaint Department."

"What Complaint Department?"

"The one standing behind you."

"Oh, shit," the criminal whispered in dread as a heavy hand grasped his shoulder.


	33. My Favorite Song

The city has its own voice, a rhythm in the ebb and flow of her streets. The cacophony below sings to the heavens, with laughter punctuating the score, and mournful arias playing softly in the background. Harsh sirens scream in crescendo, while barking dogs demand an encore. He stretches his hearing outward, searching for the one quiet melody which will bring a smile to his face, for the one song he didn't appreciate until it was almost too late.

"Hey, Jim. I'm home. Come down and help me with these grocery sacks, would ya?"

Ah, the sweetest song of all.


	34. Rage

Screaming in rage, I lift my bloody fists to heaven, demanding that God acknowledge this senseless act of inhumanity, but, unsurprisingly, he remains unmoved. A hand gently presses between my shoulder blades, drawing my focus back to earth, to the here and now.

Jim once told me I needed to learn how to stay present, that my emotions could be a dangerous thing if they got in the way of an investigation.

Despite all I have learned, this is one lesson I’ve never completely mastered.

But tonight, I think Jim understands.

Dear God, how are we going to tell Simon?


	35. Partners in Crime

“So, how long has your left hand been bothering you?”

“Only for a couple of hours.” Jim Ellison looked up in surprise to find his lover looking at him over an open textbook. “Wait a minute. How did you know?”

Blair Sandburg shook his head and lost his battle not to release an aggravated sigh. “It’s my job to know.” He snapped his book closed as he stood and laid it on the table before he moved to the couch and sat beside Jim. “Give me your hand.”

“It’s not--”

“Now.”

Feeling rather meek, Jim obeyed.

“The question is why you didn’t tell me you were in pain.”

“Come on, Chief. I just banged it during a chase today. It really isn’t that big of a deal.”

“I think you should let me be the judge.” Blair massaged Jim’s hand as he gently probed the muscles and bones beneath the skin. Jim was finding it harder and harder to breathe.

“Am I going to live, doc?”

“It’s okay to say my touch turns you on, Jim.” Blair raised his eyes to meet Jim’s.

“You always turn me on,” Jim whispered huskily.

“So what are we going to do about it?” Blair leaned in for a kiss, which Jim eagerly met.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

Before Blair could lecture him on keeping things from him, Jim took his hand and pulled him toward the stairs – totally missing Blair’s conspiratorial wink toward the ethereal panther in the corner.


	36. Paint

“What’s in your hair, Chief?”

Blair looked incredulously at him. “What?”

Jim flushed and waved distracted at the right side of his roommate’s head. “There’s something in your hair.”

“I don’t use hair products, man.” Blair frowned at him and moved toward his bedroom door.

Stepping in front of him, Jim raised both of his hands and ran them gently through Blair’s curly hair. “Right here.”

Blair started. ‘Jim, have you lost your mind?”

Ignoring him, Jim stepped closer. “Ah, it’s paint.” But when he looked back into his roommate’s eyes, Jim realized paint wasn’t the only thing he saw.


	37. Trouble

“This is so not my fault!”

Jim frowned at his partner. “I didn’t say it was.”

“Yeah, but you were thinking it.”

“How does yelling, ‘Blair get down’ equate to thinking this situation is your fault?”

“It was in your tone.”

“My tone?”

“Yes, your damn tone.”

Jim started to laugh, but flinched as a bullet ricocheted off the crate in front of them and into the wall behind them. “Are you implying this is somehow my fault?”

“Well, you are the cop.”

“And you’re a trouble magnet.”

“Oh, that’s it,” Blair huffed. “You’re so sleeping on the couch tonight.”


	38. Celebrate

“I’m proud of you, Chief. It’s been a long road, but you did it!”

Blair blinked as he looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. Jim was right, it hadn’t been easy, but he had done it. He had taken on the university, the media, and Sid’s publishing house and had won.

He knew that Jim had hoped he’d take the badge when Simon had offered it to him, but Blair knew that in order to walk by Jim’s side through life it would have to be as an equal. Personally, he couldn’t wait to get started.


	39. Bah

Jim had no love for the Christmas season, not since his mother had disappeared from their lives. While his father always put up a tree every year and made a point of lavishly decorating the house, he did it more to impress his business associates than to make the season special for him and Stevie.

Carolyn had tried to create a happy holiday atmosphere, but Jim could never find it within himself to care.

Blair, being the good Jewish boy he was, brought a wreath and wore silly stuffed antlers to school several times – a typical bachelor response to the holidays. And still Jim couldn’t find the Christmas spirit.

When Blair started to bundle up on Christmas Eve, Jim assumed he was just starting his shopping.

“You realize everything’s going to be picked over?”

Blair just grinned at him. “From your lips from God’s ears.”

“What?”

“I’m going to help out at Terry’s soup kitchen. He’s put the word out that he’ll serve a traditional Christmas dinner to whoever wants it.” Blair headed for the front door, but stopped. “You know, we can always use extra hands. Want to come?”

And because he had no other plans, Jim decided to go.

Terry put them to work the minute they walked in the door. Jim’s job was to circulate through the tables and keep everyone’s mugs filled, whether with coffee or punch.

As the evening wore on, Simon showed up in a Santa suit and passed out small gifts, not only to the children, but the adults as well. People smiled and laughed and even sang, and Jim realized that he had finally rediscovered the Christmas spirit.

He felt joy in being able to give freely, with no expectations of receiving anything in return, without feeling everything was overly commercialized or without being inundated with false emotions.

When the church bells down the street pealed out that it was Christmas, his eyes immediately sought Blair’s.

His roommate’s eyes were bright with joy. “Merry Christmas, Jim,” he whispered.

And to his surprise, Jim realized it really was.


End file.
